Page 43 of Hate Me

He still looked worried.

I stepped up to him. “If things start to become too much once she’s here, I’ll make it known to you. I swear it. I’m not going down that relapse road again, not after coming so fucking far.”

He gave my shoulder a squeeze. “So be it. I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”

10

~Caleb~

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Blood dripped from the door of the old warehouse and as I looked closer, I saw it trickling down from the door jamb onto the ground below too.

Thuds, screams, and gurgling sounded from inside.

Crashing and the breaking of glass followed.

And then the screams abruptly ceased.

I listened harder and muffled voices reached my ear.

I couldn’t make them out in enough detail, though. Neither the identities of those speaking, nor the actual content of the conversation.

I pulled my phone from my tactical jacket and fired off a text.

Caleb: At the location given. Going in.

I jolted as a response came so quickly.

Caspian: Get it done.

My gut twisted at his words.

No care. Just all business. So fucking brief too.

Like there was nothing else there at all.

Like I was just one of his soldiers and that was the extent of it.

I guess, right now, that was all that I was to him.

I shook my head to myself and secured my phone.

And then I drew my gun, cocked it, and opened the door.

A body fell out onto the ground as I did. Well, half fell out, part of the bloodied corpse still inside, its head and shoulders hanging out the door. Lovely.

I reached down, grabbing the guy by his shoulders and dragged him back inside fully, then I wiped the blood now slicking my gloves on my tactical pants, and stared down the narrow corridor that led further into the warehouse. Three other bodies lined the path ahead. Just as bloodied, one with their throat gouged, the thing looking like it had actually been ripped out by a supernatural beast of some kind.

I kind of wished that was the case, because the alternative, the actual reality, was so fucking brutal.

And, as I rounded the corner and came to the heart of the warehouse, a massive space surrounded by shipping crates, that reality could no longer be denied, because there she was.

Skylar.

Doused in blood.

Clad in full Onyx gear with a bright-red short wig this time.

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